


to learn your face (and the depths of your soul)

by cosmicsupersass



Category: Spartacus Series (TV), Spartacus: Vengeance
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canon Fill-in, Episode Related, First Time, M/M, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-20
Updated: 2014-01-20
Packaged: 2018-01-09 11:06:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1145230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cosmicsupersass/pseuds/cosmicsupersass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nasir knows a great many things, and Agron comes to learn a few of them.  </p><p>Agron and Nasir's first time as it takes place after the makeout scene in 2.08.</p>
            </blockquote>





	to learn your face (and the depths of your soul)

**Author's Note:**

> I'm a total sucker for first time fic.

Agron has waited. He has been patient - a task better suited to Nasir. He has only barely tempered his burning desire to be with the smaller man, to let the looks smolder no longer but to crush their mouths and cocks and noses and chests together until their souls can’t help but follow suit.

Agron even rationalizes that his control snapping tonight isn’t really his fault. He had been sent to guard Illythia shortly after their evening meal, and Nasir had followed, offering polite conversation to temper the stony silence Illythia would provide. Nasir had mentioned something about the fact that if he was well enough to fight, he was well enough for many other physical feats, with what anyone else would have considered only the shortest of glances at Agron. Not long ago at all, Agron was not a man for shrugs and glances in favor of direct words and conflicts solved with his fists, but as Nasir was a man of subtleties in courting, Agron could feel his body beginning to respond to looks made from under eyelashes and crafted his language with bold promises and touches of innuendo alike. And if reason for his actions existed, he would have cited this as it for why he pounces on Nasir, pressing him against the unforgiving stone wall with harsh, sloppy kisses.  
Agron kisses Nasir as if he has never kissed before – too eager, too much tongue, as inexperienced as a boy – but it matters not for Nasir kisses him back. 

Suddenly the situation changes its axis, and Agron wonders if he’ll ever stop underestimating Nasir. Nasir was caught off guard by the sudden attack on his flesh, but he does not stay pressed against the wall whilst Agron plunders his mouth. The younger man’s response holds no trepidation as he reaches up to clench his hands in Agron’s short hair, his bicep flexing to ensure Agron’s mouth stays exactly where he wants it. Their lips and teeth clash, and it almost feels like a battle – a beautiful, knee-jerkingly pleasurable battle which neither of them truly desire to win.

Nasir’s hands move to his shoulders and he can feel Nasir attempting to pry him away. He captures Nasir’s lush bottom lip and hangs on, his teeth scraping over Nasir’s pliant flesh before finding purchase and allowing himself one more dip into his lover’s mouth before falling back. Nasir gives him a short shove and Agron feels himself stumbling backward, but worry is the last thing on his mind; he has kissed Nasir enough to know that being shoved off doesn’t mean Nasir doesn’t want this, but that he really, really does.

“We must wait,” he explains, his voice rough with lust and his lids heavy with the same affliction, “Until Spartacus relieves us of charge.”

“Time passes too slowly,” his voice roughened like Nasir’s and using his gaze to tempt Nasir back into his arms. It works. 

“We must be quick then,” Nasir responds, pulling Agron back in to hold him against the wall once more.

Agron spreads his jaw and pushes further into Nasir’s mouth his time, seeking to be closer, more open, squishing their faces together and robbing them both of breath in the process. In some disconnected portion of Agron’s brain, he feels Nasir’s hand smoothing over his muscled stomach before stroking once over the length of his hardening cock and moving to cup his balls through his subligaria. If he had words or breath, Agron lost them both as he breaks their kiss and looks into Nasir’s eyes – bright with confidence in his own desirability and fogged with none of the hot haze that seems to fill Agron’s own head. 

Agron wants this man like he has never wanted before. He wants Nasir to be pressed to his chest and occupying the hugging space on the inside of his arms; he wants Nasir between his thighs and for his hips to be wrapped in Nasir’s own. He wants Nasir’s lips around his cock and Nasir’s hands on his ass and his forehead pushed into Nasir’s flesh with his mouth open to breath him in. He wants Nasir around him and inside him and with him – everything he’s been afraid to want on the grounds of presumption and injuries and uncertainty, but now that the ground seems to have evaporated, he is left swimming in a hopeless pool of need. And through his desire-swamped body, there is the one overarching fact that leaves him more wracked with desire than all the rest:  
Nasir knows how to please a man. 

Agron finally manages to focus his eyes on the man before him, Nasir meeting his eyes and curving his lips up into a smile like he can see each of Agron’s thoughts written out upon his face and approves each and every one of them. Everything about his proximity and his smile and his almost predatory eyes tells Agron that Nasir is ready to consume him in the exact way he needs to be consumed. When they pull each other back in, it is heavy with harsh breath and intention.  
The only things they don’t intend are the almost laughing words that definitely don’t belong to anyone who should be party to their activities.

“This is how you stand guard?”

Both men spring apart to look at Mira framed in the passageway, a look of deep amusement on her face. Not for the first time that evening, Agron opens his mouth without the slightest thought as to what ought to come out.

“We were…” Agron begins, only to look to Nasir for a better explanation than what really happened.

“We were –“ Nasir starts, but doesn’t make it any further than Agron.

They bat the words back and forth for several seconds until they are only caught in each other’s gaze and laughing, strung out on embarrassment and still-pounding arousal. Mira takes pity on them and demands no excuse. 

“Take to your bed,” Mira says, and those are the only words Agron hears before his mind is again enraptured by Nasir and bed. Agron and Nasir meet with twin grins and Agron jerks his head in the direction of the passageway, inviting Nasir to slip towards their bedchamber. Once Nasir is on his way, Agron takes a deep breath and turns, attempting to put the reins in on his raging erection.

Before ducking into the passage, Agron turns to Mira.

“Gratitude,” he says to her still-amused face, both because he can see the humor in this situation and because he is truly grateful that neither of his fellow generals had found him in this position. He doesn’t think Crixus would ever stop taunting him about his inability to focus on even the simplest of tasks when Nasir was within reach, and it would take days for the bemused smile to wear off of Spartacus’ face – though he is doubtful that Mira will be any better in this regard.

But all of this is of the most fractional concern when he sees Nasir waiting for him in the passage, arms outstretched and a knowing smile gracing his lips once more. Agron rushes towards his lover and presses their foreheads together. Nasir chuckles so deep in his throat that Agron doesn’t hear it as much as he feels Nasir’s chest tremble where his palm rests just over his heart before Nasir tilts his head up to dip his tongue into Agron’s mouth. The feeling of their mouths full of each other once again, without the impediments of a Roman woman they’re supposed to be watching in the next room, is enough to make Agron forget that there is a secluded corner of the temple with cloth wall and a bed that he wants to see Nasir sprawled out on. 

Nasir remembers enough for the both of them though, and breaks their kiss to intone a short few words to Agron. “To your bed,” he says, looking at Agron through his eyelashes again, his gaze full of hard, immovable want.

It is only a short distance to Agron’s quarters, but they run, Agron pulling Nasir by the hand in the right direction and only running into a couple of walls on the way there. Agron grabs the younger man upon entering his curtained space, digging his fingers into his hamstrings and hoisting him up so his face is in line with Agron’s. Agron spins him around and tosses Nasir onto the rumpled bedclothes, Nasir laughing throatily the whole time.

Agron feels like his cheeks might start hurting from the intense smiling and fierce kissing, but looking at Nasir on his bed, lounging in sensuality, eyes following him in desire, and a certain smile on his face, Agron is sure his heart stops. This, Agron thinks, is what being a free man must feel like at all times.

Agron wastes no time in slipping from his cloak and joining Nasir on the bed, turning Nasir to his back and covering Nasir’s body with his own until he gazes into the smaller man’s dark eyes. He hasn’t any idea how he has managed to earn a man such as Nasir up until now, but he will do everything in his power from this point forward to do so.

“Nasir… I know not how to please a man,” Agron says, looking earnestly down at his lover, “but I would learn.”

Confusion stains Nasir’s eyes and he cocks his face to the side. “You have never lain with another man?” he questions.

“You mistake meaning,” Agron says, “I lay with many men when I was once a free man east of the Rhine, but I fear I did so absent much skill.” Agron duck his head at this statement, a foreign gesture to Nasir. Nasir realizes that he must be so very embarrassed – an emotion he rarely shows or feels. So Nasir takes his lover’s chin in a gesture more typical of Agron and does not allow him to hide anything he feels.

“It is of no concern, for I will teach you,” Nasir says. His voice is so full of confidence and sensuality and Nasir that Agron gives an almost violent shiver. Agron’s grin returns quickly, and with it he can’t think of any reason he shouldn’t be kissing Nasir right now. And the kissing – gods, kissing Nasir horizontally, on a bed roll, with time enough to do something other than to rashly plunder his mouth – it’s glorious, it’s as Agron feels when his sword is flying weightless through the air. They kiss until their teeth are clashing and Agron feels as though he can’t get any closer to Nasir. They back apart eventually, and Nasir guides Agron’s head to his neck. For a few moments, Agron wonders what he’s supposed to be doing, naturally tilting his head in confusion. But then he feels it, a vibration starting in Nasir’s chest and ending in a moan from Nasir’s parted lips. 

Agron grins, working his way around Nasir’s neck to find the most sensitive spots, the ones that cause Nasir to buck his hips up and attempt to grind into Agron. Agron shifts up, pulling away from Nasir’s sizzling flesh. Nasir responds to Agron’s teasing by pulling his hair once again, dragging those merciless lips away from his reddening neck and placing them at the level of his chest. As Agron runs the bridge of his nose over Nasir’s sternum, he’s stalling. He knows, somewhere instinctive, what to do, but still he does so hesitantly. Like a rough-tongued animal, he licks sharply at Nasir’s left nipple. Agron looks up, his bottom lip still hovering over Nasir’s dusky, puckered skin. 

Nasir’s pupils are blown wide with lust, and his voice is deep and scratchy as he commands Agron, “Take me, take me now.”

Something in Agron, perhaps it is his mind, explodes at Nasir’s words. But yet, he finds that if he has been patient thus far, he can continue to be so. His hands make their way down from Nasir’s shoulders, tweaking each of Nasir’s hard nipples before opening his palms over Nasir’s toughening abdominals. When his hands reach the rough fabric of Nasir’s subligaria, they’re nearly shaking with suppressed longing. He fumbles with the unfamiliar ties, but Nasir, as always, provides assistance. With one slip of a bow, the cloths are loosening around Nasir’s waist and are thrust open by desperate hands.

Unlike many of the more raucous gladiators, Nasir is not in the habit of parading about without clothing in times of freely flowing wine – in fact, he keeps both clothing and sense close to person – so Agron has barely caught shadowed glimpses of skin normally covered. Therefore, when clothing is parted in the glowing candlelight, Agron half believes it is something out of a fever dream. 

Nasir’s cock is dark with arousal and standing out from a thick nest of curls. And it’s – Agron would never have imagined such a thought would strike him so – it’s beautiful, it’s perfect. It has the gentlest curve to it and the juiciest thick girth and Agron wants it inside him – not just held loosely in his hand and teasingly stroked as it is now, but pressing down on his tongue and pulling at his rim and simply filling him. 

Nasir smirks at him a little and reaches back to grab a bowl filled with warm oil. Agron takes this opportunity to remove his own subligaria and press more skin to bare skin. Nasir’s eyes catch on Agron’s own naked length, but his hands continue on their missions and take Agron’s in his own. It’s awkward as Nasir dabs Agron’s fingers into the bowl, but he moves as Nasir directs him, between Nasir’s spread legs and below his heavy balls.

Agron’s breath catches in his lungs as he realizes what he is meant to do. The intimacy of this act, the delicate preparation he is being asked to perform – it sends a shiver of lust down his spine. He rubs his two oiled fingers over the delicate pucker. The oil threatens to drip from his fingers, but he is as slow as if they possess nothing but time. Nasir’s hole welcomes the intrusion greedily, and Agron pumps one finger in and out experimentally in response. It’s not long before he feels comfortable adding another finger. Nasir is moaning now, twisting and rocking his hips to find the best angle, the greatest amount of friction. As Nasir’s rocking hips threaten to send three of Agron’s fingers curling in, Agron stills his hips just briefly to work three controlled fingers into Nasir’s ass. At this point, Nasir is wrecked – his hair is curling out of it’s ties and with every plunge of Agron’s fingers his chest is heaving. Agron tears his eyes from Nasir’s to look at his own straining cock and hand. Nasir’s inner muscles still feel tight around his fingers, and although his cock stands not the monster that Nasir’s is, he is gripped by the fear that, surely, he will not fit into so tight a space. Nasir must sense his hesitation, for he breaks the first words other than breathy curses since Agron had begun preparing his lover.

“I will not break, Agron,” He says, breathless with lust in the process of being sated and a hint of giddy laughter running underneath, “I am no stranger to a man’s cock.”

“I would never suspect you of anything but strength, little man,” Agron says, shifting up the bedroll to exchange a messy kiss with said little man.

Agron pulls back and removes his fingers, Nasir clenching at the emptiness left in his wake. He thinks for the first time of the men who have doubtless been here before – what they did, who Nasir was then. Agron finds pride instead of jealousy flickering though. He has something they never had – the consent and desire of a free man. Still, as he looks down into Nasir’s smoldering brown eyes and positions his cock, he finds himself wishing to ask Nasir, to make sure, even after all they have already done, that Nasir feels in no way strong-armed into this. He doesn’t really know how to ask, so he just says, “Do you stand ready?”

Nasir seems to understand – he looks as though he wants to consume Agron. Agron wants to let him. Nasir nods, Agron pushes forward, and both of their desires are met.

Fuck the gods, Agron has forgotten how good it felt to have a warm body clenched around his cock – or perhaps it never has felt this good. Nasir’s eyes bore into his as he slowly bottoms out; they roll back as Agron moves his hips in tiny circles, grinding into him where their heated flesh meets. Nasir’s mouth is open in a plush arc, and Agron simply can’t resist pulling Nasir’s loose-backed body to his and claiming the smaller man’s lips. Nasir kisses him fiercely back, threading his hands into Agron’s short hair and pulling him exactly where he desires. Their lips but a hair apart, Nasir looks directly into Agron’s eyes. “Fuck me,” are the words that he breathes into Agron’s skin.

“As if I desire anything else,” Agron says, his voice little more than a chortling whisper as he complies. Agron tightens his hold on Nasir’s torso and thrusts, eyes never breaking their connection. His thrusts are slow, measured, and Nasir’s body works in tandem with his own in a way that leaves both of them panting and moaning. Nasir is everywhere – his body around Agron’s cock, his arms flailing around Agron’s shoulders, the soft insides of his thighs caressing Agron’s. Agron fears he may have let Nasir down, however, because fucking is not an accurate description of what they are doing. In fucking, he feels, one party is groaning like a pig as the other is smothered beneath them and the dry slap of balls can be heard. And this – no, this is a dance, a sinuous slick movement of one lover plunging into another, filling him as he opens around his partner. But as Agron angles his hips just slightly and Nasir throws back his head with pleasure, he doesn’t think Nasir is complaining.

“Agron, Agron, oh,” Nasir whines, voice broken in pleasure, “Right there, right there.”

In a few experimental thrusts, Agron knows exactly how to angle his hips in order to make Nasir’s heart pound in his chest and his cock to ooze seed. Agron continually hits that sensitive spot inside him, and Nasir’s legs begin to shake, until he’s hardly able to meet Agron’s thrusts. As Agron’s cock threatens to slip from Nasir’s slippery hole, Agron shifts their positions, laying Nasir down on his back again. Agron lays down with him, elbows pressing into the bedroll next to Nasir’s armpits. In this way, Agron can curl his whole core to thrust into Nasir and press their mouths into filthy kisses as Nasir’s legs come to wrap around his waist. As they approach their mutual releases, their kisses become less of kisses and more of the harsh breathing into each other's mouths. It's as though he can't get enough air, as if instead of air, there are only broken curses and adulation to the gods they normally curse.

“Fuck, Nasir, the gods have never known…” Agron groans.

“Agron, Agron, fuck the gods, I – Ah!” Nasir whines and hisses.

Agron can feel his impending release coiling deep in his stomach. He reaches one hand around to cup Nasir’s neck and pull his forehead to Agron’s own. The other slides down Nasir’s stomach to grasp his leaking cock, jerking it rapidly. Nasir’s eyes fly open at the hand to his sensitive cock, meeting Agron’s in all their liquid pleasure. Agron’s hips spasm out of control at what he sees there.

“Nasir, I,” Agron groans, “I’m close, I’m close.”

He can tell Nasir has heard, but Nasir’s eyes fall closed and he lets out a low hiss – their lips are so close that Agron can feel the sharp exhalation. Agron’s hand still moving rapidly on his length, Agron feels it coated in Nasir’s release and his cock clenched in the spasming muscles of Nasir’s ass. All through it, he watches the rush of pleasure play across Nasir’s face – scrunching his eyelids, tensing his open jaw, reddening his cheeks. Agron was waiting for Nasir, so in half a dozen more crazed thrusts, he follows Nasir over the edge.

The pleasure explodes out across his body, branching out white-hot and so deeply, soulfully satisfying. It seems almost an age before he is falling across Nasir’s chest and pressing a calming kiss over Nasir’s heart. He can feel it beating hard under his lips as well as around his softening cock, threatening Agron with death by pleasure. He pulls out slowly, and Nasir whimpers beneath him. They stay like that, enjoying the press of the cooling-sweatiness of each other’s bodies yet a while longer. As his breathing begins to return to normal, Nasir speaks.

“I believe you spoke in jest when you said you possessed little skill,” Nasir says, still breathy and speaking of need recently satisfied.

“No, but I have always been a quick learner,” Agron says, raising his head to meet his lover’s eyes. A cheeky smile plays at his lips, but earnestness shines through his eyes. “And there’s no one from whom I would rather learn.”

Nasir surges forward into him for another kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, and I always appreciate your constructive criticism!


End file.
